


Preemie Sized Princess

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: Last Chance [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Preemie Sized Princess

It didn’t take long after the birth of your son for you and Dean to agree that he was enough for the two of you. He was so full of life, and could be quite the handful. He also knew that with him hunting, one was perfect. In another life, had he not been a hunter, if he had a decent job, he would have loved more with you. That just wasn’t in the cards.

Your son was a fast learner, and it seemed that every time Dean came back from a hunt, there was something new for him to see. And every time, it killed him. Another moment missed. The small boy who lit up their lives would never remember- but Dean would. While he was out saving people, his son was at home, growing up way too fast.

Now and then, you’d bring up the wedding. Reminding you that he was still legally tied to someone else wasn’t on his ‘to-do’ list, either. He knew that you hated that. He knew that part of you worried about them getting back together after all this time. Why would he bring her up? Then there was the fact that he was a broke bastard. You deserved the world, what could he give you? All the money he’d had went towards the house, and your ring.

He was in the dining room, snacking when his eyes saw you walking in. “_Baby_?” He breathed, worry covering his face. You’d been crying, and looked terrified.

Your hand was shaking, holding something out. “I’m pregnant.” He saw the pain filling your eyes, and he instantly knew when it happened. Sam had taken the little guy for a weekend, and Dean had treated you to dinner, and then the two of you had some drinks at home.

Getting up, he pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. “We’ll be okay, baby.” He assured you. “We’ll have two kids, and we’ll put up with their stupid fights, and I hope to hell we have a little girl.” He held you close, scared himself. Now if he died on a hunt, he’d be leaving you with two kids. Two small Winchesters to raise, and protect. To him, however, there was never any other choice but to raise this baby.

Dean had just finished getting your son to bed and was getting ready to hop in the shower when he heard you yell for him. His heart was pounding as he ran to the living room where you were. “_Baby_?” He asked, looking more terrified than ever before. He had never heard you sound like that.

“Something’s wrong.” You told him, your heart breaking. “I think I need to go to the hospital, I think I’m losing the baby.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and he saw the pain in your eyes. It felt like he was going to throw up. They’d agreed on one kid, but a month ago, when he was told he’d be a father again, that changed. As the days had passed, he got excited. He wanted this baby, and now they might lose them.

At 7 weeks pregnant, he watched you in that hospital bed, worry for you, and your baby taking over. There was nothing that he could do for you, and that wasn’t a feeling he was used to.

Dean was sitting in a chair next to the bed, holding your son close. Every now and then he’d rock him gently, rubbing his back. Your eyes stayed on them, needing something on your mind other than your reality. Whenever his eyes would meet yours, his chest would ache, wanting to take your pain away. He’d bear all the emotional pain for both of you, if it kept that look from your face.

4 hours had gone by, and the cranky toddler needed to be brought out to the car. Dean chuckled lightly when he fell asleep almost right away in his seat. Sighing, he pulled out his phone, this being the only way to keep you company. You kept him updated on what was going on, and for that, he was thankful.

He’d only been in the car just over an hour when you came walking back out, and his hands were shaking. You’d stopped texting him when the nurse came in, so he was in the dark. His green eyes were full of fear and were starting to water when you slipped in the car. “They said it’s completely normal.” You sniffed, making his eyes go wide. “It’s common in early pregnancy.”

“Five hours to tell you _that_?” He shook his head. Reaching over, he brushed your cheek. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” Dean said softly. “I was so scared.”

You put your hand over his and gave him a sad smile, nodding. “I was, too.”

Every single day was laced with fear. What if something happened? What if today it wasn’t normal? Constantly wishing that they had some sign that the baby was okay. Dean did everything he could to make sure you relaxed. He did his best to keep his head high for you. It was draining him, and some nights in the shower he broke. For 8 weeks this went on, and just when he thought it would never stop, it did.

Just like with finding out when you were having a boy, he felt that excitement all over. He was hoping for a girl, but would be over the moon for a boy, as well. He held your hand when you were 22 weeks pregnant, his eyes glued to the screen. His face lit up when the tech said that you were having a baby girl. You told him he could be the one to tell Sam, and he kissed you, still smiling.

No name seemed to fit your little girl. Name after name was suggested- by each of you- but none were the name. Finally, when you were 7 months pregnant, Dean mentioned a name and you fell in love with it. He loved talking to your belly, and calling her by name. You seemed to look more worn down, which worried him. The doctor said there was nothing to worry about, so there wasn’t anything Dean could really do.

Sam had the little man while Dean was by your side in the hospital. He couldn’t wait to meet the smallest member of their family. The nurses gave him a cot to sleep on, but Dean knew even if it meant sleeping on the floor, he would be there. He’d just gotten back from getting coffee when they rolled in the portable ultrasound machine. Sitting on the side of your bed, he gave your hand a small squeeze. Then the words hit him- there was no amniotic fluid at all. Right then he wanted to beat the hell of your doctor. Who was now on vacation. Dean’s eyes were on you, watching your heart break when you were told that a c-section was likely the best course of action. On top of not progressing, they had no way of knowing how long the baby had been without fluid.

The doctor excused himself, allowing you to discuss things. As soon as the door shut behind him, you were clinging to him, sobbing. He snapped his eyes shut, holding you close. Kissing the top of your head, he kept his fears to himself.

As you were being prepped, he was given his own things to wear. A surgical cap, booties for over his shoes, and a one piece type deal for over his clothes. He was trying to make you laugh by striking stupid poses, but didn’t get much more than a sad smile. He watched as you were walked from the room, and all he wanted to do was run after you. They told him that someone would get him as soon as things were set up and he could join them.

It felt like an eternity before a nurse gave him a kind smile and told him to follow her. Licking his lips, he nodded a thanks at the face mask he was given. It wasn’t like he’d ever been in the room for a surgery before. His mouth was going dry.

The entire time they were operating, his thumb would gently stroke your cheek, telling you that you were doing amazing, and that it would all be okay. Not once did he have the urge to look on the other side of the curtain, although he’d been told he could. He’d made a face and shook his head. Seeing the woman he loved like that wasn’t a good memory.  
  
Dean’s stomach dropped as he heard that the cord was around her tiny throat 3 times, and he watched the joy leave your eyes, and the fear wash over your face. His heart was racing, his mind going to the worst possible scenarios.

His lips touched your forehead for a moment, trying to hold the tears back. This entire pregnancy had been one trial after another, and you’d gotten the worst of it. He heard one of the doctors speak as they pulled her out- but there was no tiny cry. There was no shrill noise letting them know she’d come into their world. And, then, there was. Both of you cried, smiles on your faces. His eyes stayed on you until she was brought over.

Seeing his little girl was actually his very _tiny _girl, he went shopping. You’d tried to put her in a newborn outfit, and it fell right off. Three days later, he was smiling down at her as he dressed her to go home. His eyes lit up at her every tiny movement. She was a Winchester- a fighter.

And she’d stay in those preemie sized clothes for almost a month.


End file.
